5th Year Adventures, Short Story 10, Harry Potter and the Devils Mixup
by PTMaskell
Summary: The tale begins with an Auror receiving a message of trouble taking root in London.


Harry Potter, Auror for the British Ministry of Magic had returned from Kings Cross Station to work to find another memo on his desk. Anyone in the Ministry who knew him, knew that leaving Harry notes, and memos was likely going to be a complete waste of time, seeing how Aurors spent most of their time in the field tracking down threats. This rare visit came more from the convenience of being in London that day, and a desire to spend the remainder of the evening at home, in an empty nest with his lovely wife, Ginny.

Memos in the Ministry, however, were incapable of being ignored. Were this a Muggle office, Harry would likely just leave the memo alone until he'd decided they'd been there long enough and throw them away into the recycling. Wizard memos were charmed to take on the origami-like form of a mundane creature and use their life-like appearance and actions to gain the attention of their recipient. Once the due date on them passed, they ripped themselves to shreds.

This one had taken the form of a Gnome. Unlike those little Muggle versions of garden gnomes with the pointy hats resembling Father Christmas with fishing rods, magical Gnomes were unpleasant buggers who dug up plants, ate their roots, and raided your Bertie Bott's Every-Flavour Beans. This paper facsimile was currently digging through files on Harry's desk, hurling paper in every direction, attempting to burrow a gnomehole.

Sighing at the mess, Harry sat down in his seldom used chair, and grabbed the potato-headed Gnome-memo. Immediately the enchanted paper began to struggle, as if it were a real Gnome. It flapped its mouth as if to cry out, "Geroff me!" but all it could make out was a crinkling of paper.

Harry lifted the paper creature up over his head, and begin twirling it around to disorient the little pest. Whipping it against the wall behind his desk, it hit with a barely audible impact, bounced back onto the desktop. It stood for a moment, stumbled briefly, then unfolded itself before him, revealing the frankly unwanted note.

Surveying the mild chaos the untended Gnome-memo had caused to his desk, while casually picking up the paper with mild interest. Desks, memos, and paperwork were not the life he sought to live. The mass disappearance of most of the surviving Death Eaters has gone unsolved, and he'd dedicated his life to bringing them to justice.

No matter the personal cost at times.

And the cost had often been steep. Death Eaters when finally located were like wild animals. They were caught out in a world freed from the darkness they'd worked so hard to spread, and were exceptionally violent, often starved. But desperate men were careless, and Harry and learned to survive at a very young age. Most definitely younger than anyone should.

It was easy for Harry's mind to go to a dark place. The time he got to spend with his growing family was the light that kept him out of the darkness. And passing the time would come faster from within his work, instead of his head.

Looking down at the memo, he read its contents over quickly. Another incident involving a Devil's Snare being mistaken for a harmless Flitterbloom, deadly this time. And the Aurors office was being held responsible. Investigations, and PSA's were imminent. What worried Potter the most was the idea of the attacks. This may be the act of a few, or even one mischievous wizard, but once the idea became public, anyone with a grudge may have the idea of disguising Devil's Snare's as housewarming gifts.

Paperwork.

The worst part of working for the Ministory of Magic. Harry secretly wished he were closing in on a particularly violent dark wizard in Albania rather than writing up public service announcements.

After a brief reorganizing of the files on his desk, Harry grabbed a blank sheaf of parchment, a fine quill, and some ink.

It has come to the Ministries attention that a culprit has been swapping harmless Flitterblooms with its deadly cousin, Devil's Snares. Upon investigating a series of asphyxiation deaths, it was discovered that small cuttings of the similarly looking plants had been the cause of deaths of obviously targeted individuals. The public is warned to be weary of housewarming gifts, and deliveries of plants labeled Flitterblooms.

If you have recently received a Flitterbloom, please keep your distance, and refer to your Herbology books for reference to distinguish it apart from its more dangerous lookalike. Flitterblooms can be identified by their long, swaying green tentacles, green leaves, and tolerance of the Lumos Charm. Flitterblooms show no outward signs of aggression, and can withstand long periods without water.

Devil's Snares, however, are extremely aggressive. If you have a tentacled plant that has reached out for your limbs, held on to you, or you believe may have a colour-changing charm that appears to be wearing off and turning them to their distinctive black colouring, please vacate the area, and alert the Ministry immediately. Devil's Snares do not sway, are black in color, and resembled a lazy patch of tentacles and leaves until they come into contact with prey. If your Flitterbloom grabs onto you, just relax, they will let you go if you don't struggle. They're especially vulnerable to the Lumos Solem charm if you find yourself trapped.

The best course of action would be to use the Lumos Solem charm on any Flitterblooms you may have recently received either as a gift, or casually picked up from any Apothecary, garden, or nursery. Any outward violent reaction is a clear indication of a Devil's Snare. Take extreme caution, and report it immediately.

Thank you.

Somewhere in the back of the Aurors mind, a pattern was beginning to emerge, but he didn't have a wide enough view of it to yet connect anything.

Pulling out his wand, he cast a quick charm on the PSA and sent it off to be reproduced and distributed across London. It took the form of an snowy owl, as his memos often did, and took flight.

Harry was just about to call it a day when a real owl carrying a letter landed on his desk. From the markings, it was another inter-office memo, but someone didn't want to risk it falling victim to its critter nature, and had paid for a fast delivery.

Understanding the importance of the need to rush a memo, Harry opened up the letter quickly.

It was from the Department of Mysteries concerning a five year old cold case. Scrying for missing persons had yeilded a result. There was just a single name there: Hogwarts.


End file.
